My Gang of Swordsmen

Chapter 469: Chapter 166: Mr. Tachibana! Let’s Go Try Western Women Together!

"No need, no need." Rakshasa smiled calmly, "You stay here. After all... this battle will soon be over."

Rakshasa inserted the Chōyō Masamune held in his left hand back into the belt on his left waist, then tucked both hands into the wide sleeves of his kimono. His hands reached out from the neckline of his chest, forcefully flipping his kimono backward, and he took off the clothing on his upper body.

As the kimono covering his upper body hung down, the tattoo on Rakshasa’s back also appeared—the pitch-black armor fused with flesh, skin showing a grotesque bluish-white hue, and a mouth full of fangs grinning fiercely.

Devouring flesh, flying through the skies or charging on the ground, a terrifyingly swift evil ghost: Rakshasa!

"Come on, Scythe Weasel." Rakshasa beckoned to Scythe Weasel with his finger, "Let me see how much your strength has improved since we last met."

Scythe Weasel did not respond to Rakshasa.

He just snorted heavily through his nose and let out a Qi Union sound that was immensely intimidating, as he dashed towards Rakshasa with the momentum to crush mountains!

Bang bang bang... His large feet stomped on the floor of the tea room, resonating with a thunderous rumbling.

As he charged towards Rakshasa, Scythe Weasel simultaneously pulled out the sheath hanging on his left waist, which would hinder his movements, and casually tossed it aside.

The sheath that was flung out flew into the air, spinning and drawing an elegant arc, eventually landing heavily in a corner of the tea room.

Thud.

Thud.

The sound of two objects hitting the ground echoed almost simultaneously.

At the moment Scythe Weasel’s sheath landed, another object also fell to the ground.

That object... was the sword that should have been tightly gripped in Scythe Weasel’s hand.

Scythe Weasel’s sword was knocked away, soaring in a "low flight" posture, then landing on the floor.

Looking back at Scythe Weasel—he was now standing motionless before Rakshasa.

Without a sword in hand, he gazed at Rakshasa with eyes filled with astonishment, anger, and unwillingness, as Rakshasa stood only a mere step away from him.

The cold edge of iron brushed against Scythe Weasel’s throat... The sharp tip of the Chōyō Masamune stopped steadily just half an inch from his throat.

Should Rakshasa wish, he could lightly push the sword forward, and claim Scythe Weasel’s life.

On the side, Shimizu Eiichi... now looked exactly like a spectator who has just witnessed an exquisite, "unbelievable" magic performance and wants to exclaim aloud.

However, from Shimizu Eiichi’s perspective, he indeed witnessed a scene that seemed quite incredible and magical to him.

As Scythe Weasel ran straight up to Rakshasa and was about to raise his sword for a slash, in that instant, a silver light flickered before Shimizu Eiichi’s eyes—a "Silver Snake" sprung from Rakshasa’s left waist, precisely striking Scythe Weasel’s sword, knocking it away, and effortlessly stopping at Scythe Weasel’s throat.

Due to the incredible speed of the "Silver Snake," Shimizu Eiichi only managed to catch a fleeting afterimage...

Shimizu Eiichi was once just a common Yakuza found everywhere on the streets.

He lacked wealth and influence, having only a fine physique, courage, and some talent for martial arts.

He learned to fight through battle, eventually building the Shimizu Clan from scratch with his martial valor.

As someone known for his prowess in battle, Shimizu Eiichi was a die-hard member of the Martial Combat Faction, quite confident in his abilities, having defeated several swordsmen praised for their exceptional swordsmanship.

Even compared to those acclaimed as Sword Masters, his capabilities weren’t weak, yet he couldn’t even clearly see Rakshasa’s sword trajectory...

Rakshasa spoke at this time.

He smiled slightly at Scythe Weasel standing before him, "It’s been so long since we last met, Scythe Weasel, your strength has improved quite a bit."

"It’s a pity, though... There are others besides you whose strength is also steadily progressing."

Rakshasa pulled back the Chōyō Masamune from Scythe Weasel’s throat, placing the blade back at the sheath’s mouth, and with a "clang," sheathed the sword.

"I won this battle."

"So, Scythe Weasel, please adhere to our agreement now."

"From now on, listen to my instructions obediently."

Scythe Weasel’s face... now looked like a rapidly playing video, his expression swiftly changing.

Flushing red and then turning pale.

He did not respond to Rakshasa.

Just snorted heavily, then turned his head and left, retrieving his sword that had been knocked away, as well as the sheath he had tossed aside earlier, and walked out of the tea room with large strides.

After watching Scythe Weasel leave, hearing his footsteps fade away, Shimizu Eiichi withdrew his gaze and gave Rakshasa a bitter smile, "Such a... hot-tempered person indeed..."

"Heh." Rakshasa sneered coldly, "Scythe Weasel is a hot-headed fool, apart from being very loyal to the Law Punishment Faction, skilled in concealing his presence, and with strength sufficient to handle ordinary martial artists, he doesn’t have any other merits."

"Will he obediently follow your orders and secretly protect Shinno?" Shimizu Eiichi couldn’t help but ask.

"He will go," Rakshasa said confidently, "I understand Scythe Weasel’s character, he will go to protect Shinno secretly."

"However... whether he will genuinely exert himself and seriously protect Shinno remains doubtful."